[Paddlewise] Acadia trip part three, Sutton Island.

Day 4 - Wednesday 12 July 2000
 A morning of mixed emotions for me.  The weather dawned clear, with
little wind, so I knew that we stood a good chance of making the trip to
Sutton Island.  For that I was happy.  But this was the last day of
vacation for Ruth and Kathie; I was soon to lose the companionship of
two people that I had come to hold dear.  For that I was less than
happy.
 After a quick breakfast Kathie and I headed for Seal Harbor.  Ruth
stayed behind to start packing up.  We arrived at Seal Harbor to a
beautiful sunny morning with light to moderate winds.  Kathie and I soon
had our gear loaded into the kayaks and everything trudged over to the
beach across the street.  We launched at 9:30 AM on a falling tide.
 Seal Harbor is a small harbor, and not well protected from an onshore
wind, but it still contained several of the beautiful old boats that we
love to gawk at.  Because of that our path to the mouth of the harbor
was somewhat erratic.  But we were not on a trip of distance; we were on
a voyage of discovery.  Clearing the mouth of the harbor, we aimed our
bows at Bear Island and our eyes toward shore.  There are many beautiful
homes along this stretch of coast, and we never tired of looking at
them.
Soon, though, we were looking in all directions.  A lobster boat was
headed in our direction and we wanted to figure out which direction he
would head next.  It was soon determined that the course to his next
buoy would take him across our course and to our right, so we made an
immediate ninety degree left turn to clear his path.  As he turned and
headed to his next pot the fisherman thanked us for our courtesy with a
smile and a wave.
 Bear Island is not a large island, but it packs a lot into the space it
has.  Most of the island is heavily wooded, with trees coming down
almost to the high tide mark.  From just above the tide line down the
island is all rock.  There are no sandy beaches here.  The north side of
the island defends itself from trespassers with a shallow reef of rocks
about fifty yards from shore and parallel to shore.  Just below the
surface, these rocks can even cause trouble for kayaks.  At the
northeast corner of the island is a dock to service the one home and
lighthouse that are on the island.  The west side of the island is a
sheer wall about twenty feet high topped with a field.  The lighthouse
sits in the field near the wall.  Behind the lighthouse is the
lighthouse keeper's house.  Back in the seventies this house, and the
island, were leased to a man on the condition that he maintain the
lighthouse.
The crossing from Bear to Sutton Island is not a long one, about a half
of a mile, but it proved to be an interesting crossing.  About halfway
across we noticed the Islesford ferry was behind us and heading right
for us, so we changed course.  Looking back a minute later we realized
that the ferry had also changed course and was on a collision course
again!  So we changed course again, only to find that the ferry captain
had done the same.  Finally the ferry captain, evidently getting tired
of this "dance in the middle of a hallway trying to avoid each other,"
changed course radically to the left and went way out around us.  After
the ferry went by us we discovered why he had been following the same
course we were.  All of us were heading for the same place, the osprey
nest on Sutton Island.
The osprey nest on Sutton Island is at least fifty years old.  It is
located on a spire of rock about twenty feet away from a cliff like
shore.  The spire itself is about thirty feet tall and ten feet in
diameter.  The osprey nest itself is about four feet tall.  Three years
ago the female osprey was found dead on her nest, the next year the male
came back with a new mate.  One of the ospreys was on the nest when we
were there, not looking in the least put out by all these tourists.  I
guess they are used to us.
After watching the osprey for a while Kathie and I headed east along the
coast looking for the sea arch that I had read was there.  We finally
found it, but it turned out not to be as impressive as my imagination
had led me to believe. Basically a sea cave about forty feet high,
fifteen feet wide, and thirty feet deep had the back half of the roof
collapse.   Although it is an arch, it was not what Kathie and I had
expected.  Any disappointment I felt was quickly washed away by the joy
of paddling with a wonderful, exuberant companion.  There was too much
joy waiting ahead to be down about unfulfilled expectations.
We headed down Sutton Island for a bit longer, again watching the
lobster boats for their colors and staying clear of their paths.  These
people are out on the water working for a living, it would not be right
for us "tourists" to get in the way.
The 1.2 mile crossing from Sutton Island to Seal Harbor was an
uneventful one until we were about two thirds of the way across.  It was
at the point that I pointed out to Kathie that three tall ships under
full sail were going to pass about a third of a mile outside of us.
They were heading towards the same coast of Sutton Island that we had
just left.  I have never before seen a sea kayak bounce straight up out
of the water and turn ninety degrees in mid air before.  But I will
swear that Kathie did exactly that!  All thought of heading toward the
harbor was gone; I was caught up in the joy of the moment and carried
away.  I thought that I had seen Kathie happy and enthusiastic before,
but this gave me a look at a new facet of what I was coming to realize
is a rare gem indeed.
We made good time out to a point close enough to get a good look while
still far enough away to allow the ships to pass at a safe distance.
Pictures were taken of each of us with the tall ships in the
background.  The majesty of these ships is almost beyond description.
In a day when sleek high speed yachts ply the waters almost unnoticed
one tall ship will draw attention.  Three together can stop traffic.
Being on the water near these magnificent ships and watching them in
their splendor as they ghost by almost silently is a humbling
experience.  Their quietness means that you don't have to raise your
voice to be heard, and it helps the ships feel friendly.  Friendly is an
odd term to use for a ship, but it fits them.  These ships seem to
welcome attention and reward it with a feeling of peace in return.  They
don't seek attention with gaudy trickery.  Rather they draw attention
with an honest openness.  I can see where Kathie gets her enthusiasm.
The ship that passed closest to us came within easy talking distance.
One of the crew asked us how the ship looked.  I replied beautiful,
Kathie just whooped.  I think Kathie was beyond words.  We were then
invited on board for a free lunch, all we had to do is catch them.  They
were effortlessly gliding along at more than twice our top speed, so
catching them was out of the question.  We bid them a fond farewell and
headed back to the beach.
Kathie and I returned to the campground to help Ruth finish the
packing.  All too soon the packing was complete and it was time for the
hardest part of my day.  I had to say good-bye to two people who had
become very treasured friends over the past few days.  Hugs were
exchanged and our good-byes said, then they got into their car and
headed home.


--
    Paddling along through fog so thick that only one's thoughts are
visible, your reverie is abruptly shattered by the ancient cry of a
great
blue heron as she lifts uncertainly from the brilliant blue of a
mussel-shell beach witnessed only by the brooding, wet spruce....your
passage home seems as much back through time as it does through space.
Mark H Hunt


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